Dethroned
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: What's the point of having a secret identity when the whole world knows what's behind the mask? The League made an unknowing mistake of letting one criminal out early, a mistake that has consequences greater than they've ever known.
1. Chapter 1

**I only intended this to be a one fic, but I desperately hope that it kicks off into a heavy chaptered story because I have a lot of ideas for this. It was inspired AND DEDICATED TO _READINGhearts17_who requested the idea a long while ago. The idea caught my eye and stuck with me, so I figured I might as well write it up. I mean… **

**History Lesson!: In 1999, a man named Jonathan James did a lot of hacking. He even hacked military stuff! He put a backdoor in the Department of Defense's DTRA and hacked NASA. I figured by those standards, if he had stayed alive and uncaught a while longer, he would've had some serious potential. NASA and the DOD are part of the government which is a step away from the pentagon which I assume is a lot stricter than the League computers. True, Johnny boy killed himself in 2007, but this is a different reality. Slightly.**

**Disclaimer: I lliw nwo gnihtemos. Damnit Zatanna, you failed. Now I can kill you.**

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The smile was fleeting, beyond that of the star kind that existed within the universe of action figures that lined the shelves of his walls**[1]**, but the fact that it had lingered a moment simply proved that he definitely couldn't belong to this world. The fact that the corners of his lips had been turned up during this fierce a task only seemed to prove that he wasn't fit to be wearing baggy jeans with a hole in the left knee and a stained oversized gray shirt that hid his muscular figure expertly; rather he belonged in a tunic with a lightsaber tucked in at his waist, a braid pooling at the nape of his neck that was much thinner than the rest of his hair.

Of course, a man of his age was far past the Padawan stage, but the number of Jedi on his wall were limited, the majority of the men in boxes being little Anakin and Obi-Wan, their braids faintly chiseled down properly to a point where they couldn't be removed. Besides, Yoda certainly wouldn't allow a man this cruel of heart to properly bear the name of the Jedi under his own. This certain man, the one abusing his keyboard with the frantic orchestral sound that resulted of his fingers striking the keys, never a note to be missed, was far worse than Darth Vader ever could be. If baby Anakin was rejected, there was no way this wannabe ever could stay light of the force.

This man had his hair shaved down to where it could barely considered peach fuzz, the most deceased shade of brown coating the pale of his skin on his head. His eyes were green, the plain color darkened straight to its core with the coolest ice, the kind that can only be found in the depths of prison. Although his stay was relatively short, the memory of what happened once the bars closed shocked the sanity from him, tearing away all remorse that had ever made him faintly human. Now, as each key stroke darted his eyes across the screen, he got a breath closer and closer to finally ending the insanity.

There was just that edge where everything is as far downhill as it can possibly get and he was still falling hard, so he decided the best way would be to simply stop falling. He wouldn't go up or sideways; he would just lie there, caught in time, everything stopped after his plan fell through. He couldn't take his own life without taking those that pushed him this far, even if the act he was committing now wouldn't actually film over the eyes of the victims. It would be too easy to simply kill them! Besides, his skills were over a computer screen and a keyboard, not with any potentially lethal weapon. Please note, he had no intention of beating them over the head with said items, so the computer is not to be considered lethal.

Years ago, the Justice League and their pesky sidekicks had caught him, tracked him down and sent away his sanity with a single click of the handcuffs adjusting to his wrist size. With a single click, they had ruined his life so he figured he owed them the same honor. That's why, after countless hours of typing, looking over glasses and holding in every bodily function he had control over besides breath, that final click brought laughter to Jonathan's lips. This wasn't a normal chuckle though, nor was it a giggle or a snort. This was full out mad laughter, a laugh that showed he had finally won before he lost it all in another click, this click splattering his desk a dark scarlet.

A genius among geniuses had managed to do what no other villain had ever succeeded in. This man was a muggle among wizards, a Slytherin around Gryffindors, a Nazi among Jews or vice versa for all of those situations. He was an average man, nothing amazing about him compared to the amazing skills possessed by the Arkham residents that had a reputation as big as their hatred towards the hero that had put them away. Even their hatred hadn't given them the strength to expose the true identities of every superhero, no matter how strong the mask of the hero or their previous defenses, or even the strength of the enemy. With a single click, there wasn't a secret about the Justice League and their younger add on that the world wasn't about to learn. In that click, the world was introduced to who they had _really _been idolizing all this time.

And just like that, the heroes were now just like the boxed up action figures on the shelves along the walls. There was nothing on them that the viewers couldn't see and they couldn't escape, the metal twist ties and the clear box binding them in the same position, forcing them to go on with the realization that they couldn't even slightly reverse this. Taxes were high and even those that truly cared could do nothing but watch on in horror as the one they loved was taken away and defiled by the public.

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**[1] Star Fleet. **

**The next few chapters will be how each hero (that is picked) reacts to being exposed… So name heroes. Robin, Batman and Kid Flash are guaranteed automatically, so don't worry about my favorite boys. ****And… I'm writing another fic that's kind of like a Comic Con convention and although Miss West already gave me a lot of questions for it, I need questions that you would ask the Young Justice team if they were real and you could ask them as much as you want. The help would be appreciated. Review?**

**-F.J. **


	2. Robin

**Since everyone was bitching about how Robin was out of character, I decided to edit the chapter so he wasn't as wimpy. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the out of character Robbie, or even the rewritten one! Hell! I don't own anything!**

The second Dick stepped out of the limousine, a silence heavier than the weight Atlantis had to hold on his shoulders fell upon the schoolyard.

All conversations were strangled until they were a dark purple in the face, a color that brought in the Oompaloompas to drain them of what they suspected to be an effect of chewing the newly invented gum that still had a few kinks in its making. All footsteps were paralyzed by faulty neurotoxin, similar in the making to the main ingredient in Botox, a heavy poison from the puffer fish that succeeds to freeze even the smallest muscle if not used correctly, sending the victims incorrectly to a coffin where they suffocate underground or die of starvation or thirst, depending on which death favored them on that particular evening.

The pencils that had been frantically attempting to finish up some last minute homework fell like their parents had before them, their faint little noises of defeat nothing in comparison to the mighty roar that their protectors had given off as the light left their branches. The girls, and boys for that matter, had stopped mid-flirt, their attraction for the person their lust-filled eyes had been set on suddenly setting aflame, crumbling until they were nothing but a pile of once hopeful ashes, the gray particles of pain flying off as if a blown kiss had knocked them from their stand around the now slow beating organ within their chests.

Dick froze, looking around in confusion before he leaned back and slipped his binder from the seat, waving Alfred on. The butler made quick work to be suspicious, insisting that the ebony get back in the car until they knew why everyone was working like dysfunctional automatons on a ride in Disney World, but the teen shook his head stubbornly. He was sure they were just shocked at the sight of the limo, as were most kids, and that Alfred was just being old with his worries. Nothing could happen! Gotham Academy was expensive, which also made it safe with Dick's twisted explanation of it, his own personal way to send his 'grandfather' back 'home'.

The second the black limousine was gone from sight though, the blue eyed babe immediately regretted not stepping back inside. The absence of protection seemed to recharge all of the robots in a second, sparking them to life, an immediate reaction cutting over the lawn of familiar faces. The serious faces all twisted, the school split into two halves. One half, mainly the girls, grinned ear-to-ear with excited giggles and squeals while the other half, mainly the guys, got this face that easily challenged the short bird of some task he wasn't aware they wanted him to do. Before Dick could react to the faces, he was suddenly swarmed.

It was no surprise to his mind that the jocks reached him first, but it wasn't much a comfort. He immediately dropped his binder, pulling a foot back and raising his hands into fists, ready to fight them back if that's what they had the intention to do. They didn't touch him directly, instead circling him in a way he couldn't escape from. The thirteen year old didn't bat an eyelash, the dark blue irises hidden beneath completely fearless. He knew there had to be a reason for this, so he didn't flat out beat the hell out of them despite the fact that every muscle in his arms begged him to.

"What do you guys want?" he demanded to know, his eyes darting fast, turning even faster when any of them would move.

He was prepared to block punches and throw a few of his own, if that's what it took to escape without getting in trouble. Besides, the principals favored the straight-A Mathletes over the straight-C football players any day! He'd just have to smile and look innocent for the cameras like he always did. The innocence would have to wait for another day though.

"We just want to talk, bird boy," one of the brunettes smirked, folding his arms over his chest, a secretive look written hard in his features.

Dick froze, his hands lowering faintly, one eyebrow raising in forced confusion as betrayal ran deep across his mind. He automatically jumped to conclusions, assuming from the nickname that someone had blown his cover far off with the ashes from the flirting from before that were now being scraped up from the grass with finely trained eyes and hopeful hands. Who could've ratted him out and gone against his trust? Better yet, who knew? Barbara and Wally, his two ginger best friends, but he was near positive that they wouldn't betray him. They were his best friends for his reason.

"About…?" he lightly probed, a fine sheet of ice coating his eyes as the confusion became suspicion, his fists still tight and his eyes hard on the speaker from before.

There was always the chance that it was just a nickname given to him for his agility and strong leaps, the ones that secured him a high ranking in the athletic records. He had to stay optimistic with an open mind without letting his walls down all the way, in case his first overreaction was right like it usually was. Maybe, for once, it wouldn't be and his developing Robin-Senses would be wrong.

"You being Robin."

Dick's heart stopped, his eyes widening in terror for the briefest of a second. He forgot how to breathe, let alone think, blinking blankly in disbelief. The words registered with his first breath, playing off the fear as surprise, adjusting his facial features, still not adjusted to being without his mask in a situation like this.

"W-What?" he took a breath, forcing his eyebrows to furrow, prying his nails from his palm. "I-It's Dick, Dick Grayson!"

He never got to go any further than that before the brunette stepped forward and shoved him back, into the arms of a blonde to his eight. Anger immediately tore through the ebony's expression, his eyes narrowing and his teeth gritting, but he used his strength to scramble away from the blonde instead of lunging at the know-it-all jock and kicking him hard in the stomach like he wanted. He kept his eyes full to the brim with murder, his fists trembling, _daring _the older jock to continue his thought. _Daring _him to sign his name on his own certificate of death, making it clear that he knew the second he opened his lips again, he was better left for dead. Some people are just too stupid for their own good.

"I don't think so, 'Grayson'. It was all over the news last night! You're Robin!" a taunting grin lit up the jock's face, happily accepting the dare with the sparkle that lined his brown eyes.

_'It was all over the news last night_.'

That was all Dick needed to hear to panic. If the news had announced his identity, that meant that all of New England would now recognize his face on the street. It also meant that they would automatically link Bruce to being Batman, which meant however he had slipped up had ruined two lives instead of just one. It meant he'd be removed from Gotham Academy and Barbara, as well as the fact that Bruce would most likely quit Wayne Tech. They'd have to move, torch the house, destroy all evidence of the Bat Cave ever existing before they went out to find a new place to live and a new place to rebuild their lives.

He would lose all of his friends and all of Bruce's respect. He would be torn from his second home, the tears to his broken heart bleeding harshly as the stitches were broken, the reminder of why he had to leave his first one burning bright at the surface. That little corner in the back of his room at the Manor, the one he could lift the carpet on to get the picture he had hidden of his parents to look back on when he was feeling nostalgic, would be burnt to ashes until the grinning faces of the Flying Graysons joined all three of them, the newest grave freshly dug. He'd have to find a new ZETA, a new name, a new face, a new lie…

Dick's breath caught hard in his throat, his eyes wide in the worst of horror. He'd have to hack the school sites and destroy all evidence of him ever existing, getting rid of the Mathlete photos and the trophies, destroying the records he had set and his face from the roster. He'd have to forget Barbara, one of his closest friends, and drop off the map without offering her a single word of goodbye in fear of being caught. He'd have to lose the black tint to his hair and go blonde, or even ginger like the people he chased, something to match the new name he picked.

Pale fingers entangled themselves into the slicked back black hair, messing up the gel's effects, the horror more than evident now. His stomach had long ago dropped like the floor in a horror house or a roller coaster with the intention of amusing the little children without knowing that they didn't have their seatbelts buckled. Faint mutters slipped past his lips, sharp nails piercing the skin on his head, every inch of him trembling. To anyone with eyes, he looked like the small child he was supposed to be, vulnerable and afraid. The jocks didn't like kids apparently.

"I can't believe we didn't notice before! You look just like him!"

"Yeah! Black hair, _short_, _huge_ ears!"

"All that money you and your daddy make for saving the city explains the limo and the super expensive supplies you always have!"

"Now I get why you have all those records! It's not fair! You don't belong in a regular school with the rest of us!"

"Don't they have a special school for people like you?"

"He doesn't have powers, dipshit! He's not really a hero. He just wears a cape and a mask!"

"Then you're saying Batman's not a hero?"

"Not in the slightest. That flying bastard just has good aim and a cool costume! Dick _Gay_son here just follows him like a lovesick puppy, doing whatever his daddy tells him! He doesn't deserve to work with the League! He's just a sidekick, no matter what Batman says!"

"He's too little to be a hero! Who would want to be saved by someone this short? Go back home kid, hang up your cape! You're a sad excuse for a-!"

Dick didn't care which of the boys it was that he hit, but as the insults continued to stack up, it really shouldn't have been a surprise to find his fist buried deep in the brunette's stomach. The jock didn't even have time to cry out before a kick to the back of his knees knocked his feet out from under him, toppling him over. His fall would've been slow and soft, but a black dress shoe moved from behind his legs to under his chin as the thirteen year old lifted himself on his hands, kicking the teen as hard as he possibly could as he spun his body, landing on his hands and one knee when he hit the ground at the same time as the brunette.

His gritted teeth were exposed in an animal like action, one that a wolfe might use to defend himself, baring his fangs and growling just like Dick was to tell the others to back off. The wounded cries of the prey on the grass in front of him certainly kept them at bay if his growl didn't, no one else wanting to be screaming of a potentially broken jaw. As the screams kept on, the ebony stood to his feet and slowly turned, his cold eyes burning holes in the other jocks. All of their intelligence, or at least what was left of it, seemed to seep through the newly drawn holes, giving them reason to foolishly charge.

The blue eyed babe wasn't afraid of them. He caught the first fist that lunged his way, shoving it back to the left with such vigor that the bigger teen stumbled back, taking down an unsuspecting bystander who hadn't anything to do with the fight. Two boys then took his place, charging at him with the intention to double team and take him down. Just like the Pokemon move though, the attack was useless down to the simplest detail. He easily backed up and ran at them, jumping at the last second, catching one of their fists as a stepping stone, flipping behind them.

Another boy charged from behind, bringing a frustrated groan to the ebony's lips as he had to drop to his back, pulling hard on the ankles of the boys in front of him, in opposite directions mind you, so they crumpled into each other like dominos. To avoid getting crushed, he quickly tumbled backward, catching the blonde behind him hard in the stomach, crashing him to the ground with a groan of pain. Dick set his hands on either side of his head, pushing himself up and flipping himself to his feet, staggering as the blood rushed to his head. He easily brushed it off though, turning fast on his heels.

The wannabe Dynamic Duo were on their feet again by now, their lesson obviously not learned, the bigger teen from before charging too. The ebony easily shook his head, tears of fear still burning hard in his eyes. The adrenaline pumped straight to his fists and his feet, fueling the muscles between them, giving him the strength he needed to easily get them far from him. It gave each punch, kick and deliberately painful move that much more energy; that and the rage. Anger burnt hard within him, anger at himself, and he was more than happy to take it out on the jerks who found it necessary to pick on a self-conscious orphan.

The adrenaline was pumping so hard through his veins that Dick almost failed to notice the reaction of the schoolyard. Usually, there would be people rushing off to get someone who worked for the school to break it up or they'd try to do it themselves, but no one moved from their spots. Instead, they all were cheering. _Cheering_. And it wasn't for anyone who was fighting. No, the schoolyard was rooting for Robin. That was what officially stopped him, giving him reason to turn his glare to the people he had once called friends. He examined their excited faces, freezing on the only one he truly wanted to see.

Babs… Her blue eyes were averted in shame, her red hair lightly blowing around in the faint breeze of the day with the light blue of her skirt. She had her arms wrapped around her stomach, clear disapproval written across her features. The freckle-less ginger didn't move an inch, a faint bit of anger mingling in with her shame, refusing to meet his eyes.

If his best friend couldn't support him…

Even his best friend couldn't support him…

Without another word, he dropped his binder to the grass that now encircled the bodies of his attackers only to bolt off down the road. The shirttails of his tuxedo jacket flew up from his waistband, fluttering behind him down the asphalt like the cape he lacked in this cameo, his tie curving to the left to join it. He ran as fast as his feet would carry him until his feet began to idly ache, giving him cause to rummage his jacket for his utility belt. It was only after the yellow of the belt was over his shoulders and a pair of shades were shielding his eyes did he actually allow himself to think.

'_Calm down, you're overreacting… no you're not. You're just reacting. Any other hero who blew their cover would've beat up a handful of peers… right? Looks like Bruce'll be chewing my ass on that one unless I can think of an excuse… might have to hack the cameras. The last thing Dick Grayson needs is an arrest on his records. Just contact base and catch them up,' _he thought to himself, slowing his breath to clear the sudden entourage of thoughts that bombarded his mind.

He slipped his com. link from its pocket, ducking into a side alley and making himself a nice spot against the brick wall beneath the fire escape in case he needed a quick escape. He hovered himself, wall-sitting without strain, struggling to catch his breath while he waited for his communicator to patch him through. It took him a second too long to realize that he had it off, face-palming mentally before connecting and shrugging off the cold shivers that traced his spine specifically.

"Robin-," Batman was the first voice to cut his ear, hardening his expression at the reminder of how much trouble he was going to get in for all of this.

"They… figured… me o-out.." he panted, still attempting to catch his breath.

The silence that waited only further stopped his heart, running dread along with the cold from the tip of his skull to the base of his soles. He knew that he had to start fighting for himself now if he expected to ever see light through the eyeholes in his mask ever again.

"Hold your breath for a second and hear me out first! It must've been on after I left or something, but I know that my identity was discovered and someone put it on the news. I would say that I have no idea how this could've happened… but I _did _tell Kid Flash my identity and his aunt does have connections… but he would never rat on me! I told him nearly three years ago! He would've told back then if his conscious was that dirty. He's my best friend and he gets that it's a secret, and he'd never blow my cover! I don't know how the news found out, but I was confronted about it at school and these guys got too close. I _did _fight them, but-!"

"I know," the warm and more charming side of the Dark Knight trickled through the link.

Dick swallowed hard, tensing extremely as he took the hint and shut up.

"It seems my identity has been revealed… as well… I've been locked out of Wayne Tech-," that was as far as Dick could go with his silence.

He choked on the air he tried to inhale, gagging from surprise, looking over at his communicator as if Bruce could see his face in the current moment.

"Can you meet me at the Cave in five?" the voice in his inner ear tried to go over the intense mood shift the younger ebony was suffering through currently.

Dick lightly sank down the wall, his gaze going distant before he hooked his elbows around his knees to anchor them there and to assure himself that his touch wasn't all too poisonous on its own. He slowly fought for control though, wrestling his subconscious until he was looking down at his right wrist and pulling the sleeve back to his elbow. Slowly switching from Grayson to Wonder, trading Dick for Boy, he pulled a special something from his belt to serve as a replacement for his glove.

He had a map opened in a click, finding his location fast and surveying the area around within three miles on all sides with a bemused expression. When satisfied, he replaced it back in his belt, touching his finger to his inner ear.

"There isn't a ZETA near me on any side and the Robincycle is down for repairs. I busted the engine last week when I tried revamping it to-… you know…" he drifted off, unsure of whether to laugh or cough at the memory.

His half-hearted attempt to cheer up was cut short from both the thoughts that flooded him like the gates to a breaking dam and the curt voice that ended the call.

"I'll be there."

Dick halfheartedly muted the com. link, hugging his knees tight as he gave in to the hear the chatter going on between his ears. All the thoughts that he had previously repressed to hold composure started to float up, flitting to-and-from his attention with ease. He was helpless to do anything but hold himself and turn his eyes to the sky, desperately hoping that he'd wake up to find his eyes digging holes in the ceiling of his room at Wayne Manor.

**-F.J. III**


	3. Artemis

**W****ould you like to know what pisses me off? When people in movies ask someone to 'draw [them] a bath'. It's not the phrasing or how they ask it that irks me though! It's just the fact that the bath water I use is scalding! It turns my skin red in three minutes! And I have to start with cold water while I'm actually in the tub so I don't burn myself! They just hop right in the boiling water! LIKE HELL. We have some human lobsters here, or rock monsters. Or rock lobsters. **

**Disclaimer: ...**

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Artemis was frozen in the sea of freshmen, seniors, sophomores and juniors, her blonde ponytail just barely poking through the white waves, unable to breathe past the tension that pulled down on her like piranhas, circling excitedly because they had sensed a single drop of blood around her somewhere. They weren't hurting her yet, but they made her heart hammer at an unbelievable pace, her eyes wide and her stomach somewhere in-between her toes in fear. Her lips were hung open as she desperately gasped for air, her head bobbing up and down above the waves, far from any nearby land.

She couldn't swim away, the white waves gaining a navy blue tint the farther away she looked. There wasn't even a buoy around for her to grab onto to keep from drowning, the only one she could've used having drifted far off, stirring up a string of memories deep in her mind. The memories were like rocks skimming her ocean, each little delicate bounce causing hundreds of little reflections in the water to bounce back at her, the rocks sinking far down below her feet, showing her that help was _there_, only she had to find it for herself.

The boy that had run off, only after royally kicking the asses of the school's douchefags, was the one who had come up to her on her first day, put an arm around her shoulders and snapped a picture of them. His words still ran through her ears, but now she recognized them as words from Robin, her teammate, her fellow hero, the innocence of the freshmen boy suddenly fading.

"_One day, we'll laugh about this_._"_

She could remember how happily his dark blue eyes had shown, how wide his grin had been, compared to the terrified width of his eyes from a moment ago, his lips hung open in horror. The little freshmen boy, the one Bette had simply told her to ignore, was one of the last people she ever wanted to ignore for how close she considered herself to be to him. The friendship she had decided in her head had allowed her to notice the apparent freshmen's usual tendency to be right. For once though, the boy wasn't so wonderful, his right streak finally breaking to pieces at his fight.

'_You're wrong, Robin… I'm not laughing.'_

Artemis was nowhere near laughing. Fear was hardening her breath, widening her eyes, quickening her heart pace and drawing in the sharp teeth bearing fish encircling her feet. These piranhas were in short skirts, much shorter than the length required by the school rulebook, their tops way too low-cut to be okay in any school. They wore a crayon pastel of make-up, their hair so stiff that even a chainsaw couldn't hack through the hairspray abused strands. They were probably supposed to be pretty in some manner of the word, but they were _far _from it. In every sense.

"And you're Artemis," a Barbie look-alike stole the drama from the boys, placing it all in a metal pie tin and slamming it in the Vietnamese girl's face roughly.

"You didn't even pick a real name! You just used your own! Do you know how _lazy _that is? And how stupid?" her black counterpart stepped forward, looking the blonde up and down in disapproval.

Artemis sighed, face-palming lightly at the fear she had felt before. She was afraid of being bullied by sluts that she didn't even know? She didn't belong in Gotham Academy anyway, what did she care? She actually smirked at the girls, her pale lips drawn tightly off to the side in her best imitation of the expression the freshman she had just learned the name of made every day when his mask hid his features. She wasn't proud of it, unable to properly display the one that glinted brilliantly in her mind, but it would have to do for now.

"Artemis is a real name," she folded her arms over her chest, playing dumb. "Artemis was the Greek Goddess of hunting, wilderness and childbirth while she watched over kids up until their days of marriage."

From the clueless expressions that temporarily fazed their anger, she assumed this particular group of piranhas bummed notes off of the poor nerds at school who couldn't look up past their boobs. Just like with the stolen notes, the girls hid the confused emotions deep down in their book bags with convinced intelligence written cockily over the reluctancy, smirks as strong as the truest blade gleaming off their faces.

"It's also what the world calls you when you're shooting off arrows with Speedy's dad! Green Arrow? That ring a bell?"

Artemis' face contorted in anger for a second at the slip-up with Roy's name. It was beyond true that her sister had gotten far closer to the clone of the first sidekick to be admitted to the League than she ever would've been able to, but she still felt immeasurable fury when anyone slipped up on his name. He deserved more than to be called the name given to the frozen original in CADMUS, the name matched to the paralyzed immature features that would never match the friends that the clone had earned over the years. He deserved a true title that showed the innocence behind the betrayal, that demonstrated the strength behind the two worded weakness, that silently voiced the potential power with the draw of a bow.

Her own strength showed through, much stronger than Superman or Superboy could ever get even with the patches that suppress the human flaw of the genes, when she managed to keep from pinning the smart-mouthed girl to the ground and beating the granted life from her grasp so she had none left to take. It would splattered out in the ground around her porcelain skin, her fingers limply bent down over her palm in a futile attempt to grasp something other than her technical self-induced fate if Artemis had been much weaker. Instead though, she slowed her breath and kept her hands in tight fists.

"Of course it does. They were on the news a few nights ago when Green Arrow promoted _Red Arrow _to League rank," her voice turned to venom at the correction, but she easily transitioned it back to her regular tone, knowing she was caught even if she didn't. "Do you have a point?"

The sharp teeth glinted beneath the waves, curiously poking up in time with Artemis as she kicked her legs fiercely, heading for land at a ferocious speed. The bubbles were near as fast as she was, but she wasn't afraid of the carnivores behind her. She wasn't panicking, the blood wasn't from her, her heart refused to beat even a breath over the regular resting heartbeat for a 'hero'; she simply refused to fear the fin-flaps behind her and the faint growls that would sound as her skin was torn. She could care far less. Soon though, she realized that the piranhas were the least of her worries.

A trail of blood streaked the navy blue, easily parting the piranhas with a single propelling through the waves, these teeth far more dangerous than the tiny teeth in the swarm of fish. This fish had eyes of the coldest blue, its head marked in the bloody tint, the bloodthirsty appearance from the mass of killers that were now slowly drifting back towards the eye of the ocean where the blonde had started off, her death sentence now only farther defined as she neared safety. She didn't notice her danger until it clamped down hard on her shoulder, tearing back flesh as it did.

Steely eyes grew wide and Artemis turned fast on her heels, her ponytail cutting the air like a well trained laser, sawing a sharp slit into anything that dared cross its path. The warpath was barely half a circle, the authorities shutting it down before it even had much a chance to begin, the near-survivor in the ocean now left alone with the worst killer known to the waters.

Her figure was slim and toned, her skin extremely light in color, her scarlet hair falling light over her shoulders though her blue eyes begged for nothing short of a blood fest, blood of the beautifulest shade dripping from every available corner. For someone of a fairly short height, unbelievable power lingered behind her glare and flowed into her tight grip, nails with a European accent digging roughly into the Vietnamese girl's shoulder. Waves from the blonde's swimming must've kicked up in her eyes, blinding her slightly, giving the bottom of her eyes a faint watery lining, only adding to the fear her appearance caused.

"Let go of me!" Artemis snapped, reaching up and forcefully knocking the hand from her skin, staggering back defensively.

Her fists stayed raised at a stance, ready to defend herself when she found herself recognizing the redhead. She couldn't place a name to the younger face, but she knew that whenever she had previously seen that awkward little freshman who had wound up being one of her teammates, there had been a faint red shadow to his pace, towering nearly a foot over his head. Her name was Barbara, just another freshman that Artemis needn't bother with while she spent her time ducking her face and rushing from class-to-class to keep her grades high. Today though, it was time to show her face to those who she now needed to bother.

"Why didn't you help him?" Barbara screamed at Artemis, fuming painfully, her voice near a gaspy shriek.

Artemis jumped a bit from surprise, the confusion burrowing itself deep beneath her skin, laying to rest among her muscle tissue, getting comfy between her nerves and the delicate veins that were just daring to be broken to end the curiosity of it all.

"Help who?" she asked softly, maternal instincts kicking in, having the sudden urge to hug the stranger to her chest and mutter nonsense until everything was calm again.

Barbara didn't want the blonde's affection, judging by the way her agony danced across her features like the shadows from a flickering flame of the most magnificent height. The water in her eyes grew, trembling on the brim of pale skin and faint blue. Her teeth were clenched as tight as she could get them, only unprying to try to scream the pain from her aching wounds.

"_Dick_! He was your _friend! _Your _teammate!_ You saw how u-upset… he was! Scared! So… afraid…" she broke, her face seizing up as she fought a war with her subconscious. Her eyebrows furrowed and a tear fell, but she held her composure strong all the same. "Why didn't you go after him? Why didn't you stop those g-guys from hurting h-him? You're a monster!"

It was as if an expert archer and a pro fisherman had combined their skills into the ultimate weapon: an arrow with jagged hooks on the edge, so when the arrow pierced her heart, there was no way for her to pull it _out_. A faint trail of blood lined the outside, telling her to leave the arrow and labor her breathing as she got help, but she already had both hands on the shaft of the arrow, desperately tugging at it.

"What are you talking about? Who's Dick?" she ran a hand over her hair, her forehead covered in lines, eyes wide and frown shaking.

Another tear fell roughly, dragging a line of eyeliner down the once unmarred cheek, despite the redhead's best scrubbing attempt.

"Robin? The black haired boy who ran off, his heart… b-broken because no one had the courage to step up and save him? The teammate you betrayed?" Barbara gasped out, all of the murder in her eyes directed solely at her key opponent, the one standing before her shaking lightly.

Drawing conclusions was for everyone who considered themselves to be an artist, a pencil clutched tight in their hands as they tried to make sense of the mess they were stranded in. The rougher the mess on Artemis' paper grew to be, the better things started to make sense even though not a single figure could stand out alone against the scribbles. As they clumped together throughout the clutter, little ideas broke off in her mind and she managed to play a puzzle, piecing all that she could without lifting a finger.

Everyone in Gotham Academy had known Robin's identity, as had they known her own from the way they were talking. That would suggest Robin lived in Gotham, also hinting that Batman did. Were all Gotham heroes exposed? What heroes all lived in Gotham? How did everyone know this? Someone would've had to snitch, bringing up the thought of Red Arrow, but he'd been kept from the bad guys long enough to keep from leaking what he knew to anyone… hopefully. She surely hadn't told anyone her real identity! Robin had figured it out himself, which meant no one else should've been able to.

"Like you're any better!"

Artemis seemed to forget she was a heroine, her mask off and at her feet along with every shred of respect that she had previously worn like the spandex that shaped her figure while she darted through the trees, her bow drawn back, her eyes watching hard. Before, she would've simply pinned their clothes to the trees and silently dashed off for the others to run up and cuff the bad guys, but now she had the full intention to simply beat these baddies down with the bow itself until she needed a new one; preferably black with green arrows along the arch. That way, it would still look cool while camouflaging her from any unwanted sets of eyes.

"Just because we work together doesn't mean I have to _baby-sit _him! We're _heroes_, not sidekicks! _You_'re his friend! I'm just another mask who runs next to him when we're saving your _asses_ from the guys with the big guns. I don't know if you ever noticed, but Robin never asks for help! If he had wanted help, he would've put on his utility belt and disappeared in a big puff of smoke! I don't know his real name, but you do and you could've saved him just as fast as I could," she refused to let a redhead show her up, let alone another ginger to Robin's quickly growing fan base, starting with Kid Mouth back 'home'.

Barbara was stubborn though, much more than the freckled face that Artemis preferred returning through the ZETAs to, her feminine emotion probably contributing to a major portion of that. She stepped forward, her height the only thing keeping her from being nose-to-nose with the older girl, her fists looking as if she was holding an earthquake in each palm.

"You shouldn't _need _him to ask to help him! That's what heroes do! They help all those who need it, and you know as well as I do that he needed it! You should've known-!"

All eyes in the schoolyard were now on the potential chick fight that was beginning to brew, similar in the making to a well-cooked pot of soup, the lid kept on so the heat could ever so slowly build up to make the final result much better.

"I wouldn't know! I haven't known him for very long! I haven't been on the team for even half a year yet!" Artemis cut herself short, knowing that if she kept on at this rate, her record would outweigh her mother's as she had to serve life for murder. "And how did you know I was _that _Artemis? That he was Robin?"

It wasn't the redhead that responded though. No, the blonde from before had grabbed the freshman by her arm and pulled her back, stepping forward to reclaim the attention of the heroine.

"It was all over the news! Every electronic that can get even the faintest internet signal was spammed with your identities," she smirked, folding her arms over her chest, "So, what about it Arrow Girl? How about you give us a show?"

Artemis gave a frustrated sigh, her book bag in the grass by her flats. She wanted to say no. She wanted to chase Robin down, take his utility belt and use everything in there on these girls, this crowd! She couldn't kill them all though, in fear of lethal injection unless heroes were pardoned which she doubted. There _was _something she _could _do though, a good replacement.

"You know what? Fine. You want a show?" she threw her hands up frustratedly, backing up a little. "You can be my stage, bitch. Brace yourself, I dance for the money."

In a second, the blonde was on the grass sobbing over her aching nose, Artemis secured on a window ledge eight feet from the ground. The height wasn't enough, so she gripped the upper rim and pulled herself up, scrambling for the greatest distance she could get herself from the ground. Wolf Whistles filled the air as everything under her skirt was flashed to the crowd below, but she brushed them off with a blush and kept climbing until she was on the roof, her feet hanging over the edge.

The whistles stopped, disappointed sighs drowning the air before the crowd rushed the girl down below who had taken a shoe to the face as Artemis dug her com. link from her bra and poked it into her ear** [1]**. She quickly connected to the main channel, not truly caring who she was patched over to, simply needing help of any sort.

"Anyone listening? I need help, soon as possible?" she looked out over the city, the buildings making her frown lightly to herself in thought, looking for capes or symbols in the sky.

Silence filled her ear, not necessarily guaranteeing a lack of audience, hinting stronger at rather a lack of interest. A hard sigh slipped from her lips and she got to her feet, brushing the back of her skirt off before touching that hand to her hip and cocking it out.

"Our cover's been blown. I'm at Gotham Academy and a group of girls just told me they knew I was Artemis because of some internet hack from what I can tell, so chances are the rest of you have been blown too," she added, keeping her voice steady and waiting patiently.

There still wasn't a reply, giving her cause to groan into her hand. She cursed faintly under her breath, raising her hands and adjusting her ponytail. Her mind raced, trying to think of anyone who might have their com. links in at this hour, going through everyone with the targets on their chests to the people she casually worked alongside. Eventually, she thought of _one _person who was always listening. It took a moment to think of him of course, but he crossed her mind and she knew the perfect way to catch his attention.

Wally always kept his com. link in during class because he was bored and listening to the teacher wasn't his favorite thing to do. He always kept an ear out, listening for an excuse to leave school, being careful to hide it with a hand as he supported his face, taking it out when anyone came too close and switching it off. He had to be listening now. His school started an hour earlier, meaning he was in the middle of Geometry, his worst subject.

"Robin was here too," she added fast, praying that those words would spark some attention her way. "Some of the jocks here confronted him and he beat the crap out of them, running off before I ever had a chance to help him. He looked like he was in tears, or something close to it. He was really-…"

"Where is he now?" a familiar voice cut the line worriedly in a hushed whisper.

Artemis smirked to herself, her lips slowly turning down again as gray scanned the streets, looking for the little ebony. Even her increased height failed to show her where the bird was hiding his face, but Wally didn't need to know how high she was, or the fact that she was completely clueless.

"He bolted from school, heading off to the alleyways with some good speed. I'm surprised you haven't seen him! I thought for sure that he'd be up in Star City with you by now!" she joked lightly, although she knew she had no room to be kidding around.

With her luck, Robin probably really was up there! She didn't know how he reacted to these situations, but she imagined he was terrified. From what she understood, he had been in the 'hero business' for nearly five years and now, it seemed all of that work was crumbling away, the ashes messily strayed at his feet.

"On my way."

After seven words, the phone went dead in Artemis' ear and she found herself alone on the roof, a frown soft on her lips. She wasn't quite sure what was going on, but she had a bad feeling that gripped her stomach hard, even before she heard the familiar engine roar. Her head was ripped up at the sound, seeing a black winged car tear down the streets with a passion, practically flying over the asphalt with its speed. The crowd hushed itself, faint mutters of the Batmobile drifting through the air, stealing Artemis' presence away with it.

* * *

**[1] As a girl myself, I constantly use my lingerie as pockets for when I have none. I figure a cellphone and money are the hero equivalent to their com. links so why wouldn't they hide those in there? It's convenient… easy… Or maybe it's just me. I mean, if it went off in class and gave you a boob tumor due to the radio waves or whatever, that would be bad…**

**By the last paragraph, I simply meant that when blondie saw the Batmobile, she ran off. And when Artemis got from the ground to the window, knocking the blonde down with her, I simplified saying that Vietnamese chicky jumped up and kicked the stranger, using her as a stepping stool to get up. In case you didn't notice. Anyway. Sorry this is long and late. I just got **_**really**_ **lazy… heh… So, you should review now?**

**Rumor has it, OOOOOOHH~!  
-F.J. **


	4. Batman

**Last night, I couldn't get to sleep. My darling blondie had her back to me and was all curled up… and she had all the blankets… so I scooted really close. I kind of tried to fold myself against her so I could get some of the covers without having to fight for them. I didn't put an arm around her though, no matter how bad I wanted to. I was smiling though… then I hear this camera click. Her mom got us. Her mom got me. Damnit. At least I didn't try kissing her though! Heh… Okay. Maybe I did try. But I weenied out and just held her hand. To keep me up a bit longer before that, she cupped my chin in her hand. I thought she was going to kiss me. My heart dropped to my feet and I couldn't breathe. Then she flicked me. Cock-blocker.**

**Disclaimer: I own NOZZING. Nothing. Nada.**

* * *

As a hero on the side, Bruce Wayne had experience in all sorts of dangers; everything from loaded gun barrels meant for staring down and oversized mutant crocodiles with homicidal tendencies. Danger was one of his closest friends, never leaving his side and watching his back at every chance it was with him, looking him in the face with a proud expression. It could make his heart skip a beat and bring the faintest of grins to his lips in the shadow, but its favorite hobby with him was finding ways to crawl under his skin, a task that was far too easy.

Nothing was more dangerous though, in his experience with spandex and uncomfortable cowls, than driving with the sounds of the one you find yourself most attached to in pain playing through your head.

He wasn't Bruce though as his gloves clenched the steering wheel in a death grip, his boot specifically designed for stealth resting against the floor of the vehicular device that resembled a winged mammal in form. The extended wings that rose from the black body surprisingly didn't stand out in traffic, mostly because the car was but a moving shadow as it blasted through the cars that parted as if he was a federal agent. He felt like he was driving down a runway, the audience's eyes all on him.

"_I-I'm not... r-really a hero… I just… wear a m-mask and… a cape. I'm too sh-short to save a-a-anyone!…I'm j-just a s-sidekick, no matter w-what you say… even B.. even Babs… she just st-stood there… a-and stared at m-me! Like I was a monster!" _

Bruce gritted his teeth painfully, goose bumps dusting over his skin at the broken words that drowned his mind in their agony. Instead of being able to focus on his fast paced heartbeat to distract himself, each thump was replaced with a ragged gasp in his head, one with a higher pitch and a hopeless tone. Each beat grabbed harder and harder at his heart, only turning his knuckles to the purest of snow colors beneath the gloves.

And to think, the morning had started off relatively normal.

* * *

It was always a half-empty cup of black coffee to accompany the 6:30 sunrise, only a quarter drank before the youngest resident of the Wayne Manor would come down dressed in his nines. The beautiful navy eyes would always be innocently drowsy, making him look a lot younger than he actually was, all of his words mumbled. By this point, all he has left to do is slick his hair back from his eyes to expose his pretty face, the one usually covered by a thin domino mask.

This morning, there was something about the way the sunrays pierced the window's glass that propelled Bruce to set the newspaper down and get up to greet his ward. There was something about the way the marble shone that inspired him to ask Dick if he could fix his hair so the younger boy wouldn't have to wash his hands again. There was something about the way the navy eyes sparkled in surprise that brought a warm smile to his lips and an even warmer chuckle to the surface.

"You didn't catch my cold, did you?" Dick had teased, rubbing his eyes as tan fingers coated in gel ran smoothly over his forced black hair.

The motion seemed to feel good from the way his smile grew soft, or maybe it was just the amount of affection and attention he was getting. Being in the circus for most of his life had gotten him dependent on the touch of another to get on with life and although this was just to his head, it had him feeling right at home like he should.

"Superheroes don't get sick," Bruce roughly attacked the cowlick at the back of his protégé's head until it finally lost its rigor mortis and dropped back down with the rest of his hair.

Dick's eyes narrowed jokingly. "Oh, ouch. Thanks."

It took the older of them a moment to get why his boy sounded so offended, but when he did, he offered nothing more than a light chuckle and a final run over of the stiff hair.

"You're a hero, but not a superhero. When you're of age and join the League, _then _you gain your immunity to the impervious diseases. But until then-," he wiped his hands off on the towel in the bathroom, patting the ebony's shoulder lightly, "enjoy your sicknesses."

Dick laughed lightly, grinning widely, the affection making it seem as if he took an injection of pure sunshine straight into his heart. It radiated from his expression wildly, the golden rays reflecting off of his features in the most discrete way possible as to not burn straight through his flesh.

"I will! You enjoy having to go to work _every day_," the boy's giggle was the second to last thing Bruce heard of him, the last being, "Bye Bruce! See you up at the cave!"

Alfred had left him to, or he must've at least, because after Bruce had thoroughly washed his hands free of the gel, he found himself alone in the Manor. He wasn't bothered though; he just picked up his newspaper and went back to trying to finish his coffee. He never could though, or so it seemed, because the second he lifted the mug a ring cut the air.

This wasn't the kind of ring that fit around the finger of the person you love, although in Bruce's eyes or ears for that matter, this ring was near as bad. This ring was the kind from the telephone, a sound he absolutely despised hearing. He usually had people for this. He assumed responsibility, climbing to his feet and abandoning everything in his hands to pick up the phone, putting on a face as if they could actually see him.

"This is Bruce Wayne," he picked up in a formal voice, looking at the phone in his hand curious for a voice to return to him.

There was a pause before the reply sounded, already making the ebony suspicious before the words could even hit his ear.

"H-Hello, Mr. Wayne," a familiar voice managed.

The older man's features tightened. "Johnson… why are you calling me? Did something happen?"

A nervous laugh came over the line, causing Bruce's mind to run circles through various what-if situations on why a trusted colleague would find the need to call him barely thirty minutes from the time he planned to come into work and talk to him with such a nervous voice.

"Don't… Don't come into work today," the man on the other end advised shakily, "I don't know if you've seen the news this morning… but the employees here have and they're a little… t-ticked with you."

Bruce's eyebrows raised, half tempted to find the remote and turn on Channel Four for a quick briefing on what he was behind in. He preferred to hear things face-to-face though, on those rare occasions when he wasn't up to speed on something. It was rare though, so he wasn't exactly quite sure on what he definitely preferred. He'd rather be in person to hear it though.

"I'm on my way," he went to hang up swiftly before the man's quick cry froze his finger barely a breath from the button that could disconnect them. "What?"

The hovering silence lightly set his finger to the red button, but Taylor Johnson was smart enough to speak up at the last second and cause Bruce to walk towards the stairs slowly, his hand touching to the railing before the voice hit his ear.

"Please, Mr. Wayne! I would never ask something like this-," the man began.

"But you _are_ asking it," the ebony intervened with a smirk, starting up the stairs, "and it's Bruce. We've worked together nearly eight years; don't be afraid to call me by name."

He was halfway up the stairs when a reply was stuttered out, but this time he didn't stop walking. He had a suit to don and hair to adjust.

"Please-… _Bruce_. I would never ask something like this unless it was really important… I can't stress this enough. Please, _please _don't come in."

Bruce's attention was caught and secured safely on the hook with no chance of it being released from the sinister hold, the door to his room already opened and his closet doorknob already trapped in a pale grasp.

"Challenge accepted," he grinned to himself, hanging the phone up and setting it on the dresser to his left.

He quickly dressed in his work attire, taking his time because he knew he still had time before he was needed in. How much they _wanted _him was debatable, from what Taylor had said, but they needed his presence there so they could live with whatever was on the news. It couldn't be too big a deal… right?

It didn't take long for him to get into his civilian car, casually driving out to Wayne Tech's main location, driving in near silence if you didn't count the bountiful amount of thoughts that occupied his mind while his hands stayed ten and two on the wheel, respecting the rules of the road. He only disobeyed when he came into the parking lot, speeding a bit so he could spiral the car and pull into his reserved spot with a feeling of accomplishment.

He opened his door carefully and stepped out, focusing on looking professional in his manner as he closed it, pocketing his keys and walking up to the door. It sparkled, reflecting him back an image of himself, bringing a warm smile to his lips at the thought of the worker who was dedicated enough to come in earlier than he did. When he pushed past the doors, he didn't make it a step before he was confronted by someone who definitely wasn't nerdy little ginger Taylor Johnson.

No, his first fan of the day was Michael Williams, a man with shoulders as broad as the mountains and skin the same tone as the rocks that make them up. His eyes matched the night sky around the mountain, his bulging arms like the heavy rivers flowing near the base of this rock structure. He wasn't one to smile, which was one of the few reasons he was hired rather quickly for security detail.

"Mr. Williams," Bruce raised his head in a nod at the man in his best form of a greeting. "How are things looking this morning?"

Michael's face stayed cold, his arms folded over his chest as he stared down the highest ranked authority in the building.

"No problems this morning, Mr. Wayne, other than the criminal who broke in," the man's voice was far deeper than the Dark Knight's greatest attempt, similar in tone to Trace Adkins if that were to help you understand its pitch in any way.

Bruce's eyes widened, automatically darting around for broken glass, missing furniture or any havoc that would show regularly from a result of such a crime. His company seemed no different than it had before, only the stiffness off the atmosphere catching his attention nearly instantly.

"You subdued them, I presume?" he coughed lightly, keeping his voice calm and professional, a little worried from how Taylor had sounded earlier regarding this.

His mind ran upstairs, worried that the perpetrator had gone there and ruined something he couldn't see. If they had touched his office, he'd make it his personal mission to staple this man to the back of a semi- naked. His staple fantasy was cut short when a dark hand lightly grabbed his jacket arm around his forearm.

"I just did."

Bruce tensed, immediately tearing his arm from the hold and watching Michael through cautious eyes. He absently rubbed his arm, figuring that's what someone of civilian strength might do with such pressure. Batman would never hopelessly try to wipe away the pain; no, Batman would accept the pain with no emotion.

"What are you talking about?" he firmly asked, his eyes narrowing accusingly.

Michael backed up to the counter, resting his elbows along the granite, his finger tracing the handcuffs lightly.

"Does the name Batman mean anything to you?"

Bruce knew to react fast, despite the paralyzing surprise that was building up strongly in the pit of his stomach. This didn't mean anything. He could just play if off and go back to work like usual. He had a moment like this well rehearsed in his head, created back when he had decided that he wanted to be a hero, carefully edited with the years. He was ready for this.

"A wannabe one-man police force nearly half over with his age who runs around with a little boy who's just started it in spandex? No, it doesn't mean a thing to me," he bared his teeth, replacing the worry with the offense one with such thoughts might think.

The ebony internally winced, remembering reading that from an email he had been sent regarding his alter ego. The public wasn't at an agreement for whether or not he was good for the world, but he wasn't in search for an opinion. They needed him, whether they liked it or not, and he was going to be their Nanny McPhee until they could stand on their own two feet without the need of a man in a cape to help them with it.

Michael chuckled at the innocence, looking from the door to Bruce as if to determine how long it would take for the man to run there and if he'd need to move closer. The richer among them noticed and found himself a bit more upset with the fact that the man didn't move an inch closer. He didn't see him as a threat. How blind he must've been, worthy of such pity!

"I'm guessing you missed the news this morning," the security guard smirked lightly, seeming to get comfortable against the counter.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest angrily. "You're the second person to assume that this morning. I was helping my ward get ready for school, so yes, I missed it. What was so important that people are asking me about it?"

He had expected to hear a lot, what he heard being one of those things, but it still managed to crawl under his skin and nip at his nearly dull nerves. He wasn't quite afraid, seeing that it was fear that was afraid of Batman, but he was definitely bordering hard on the edge of overly-cautious.

"Everyone knows that you're Batman. Someone leaked it all over the internet, which makes you a vigilante, and a criminal. Sad as it is, it seems I have to arrest you."

Muscles were purposely tensed and confusion was forced to tan features. Dark eyes were forcefully narrowed in mock anger, one forced to match the scowl coated evenly in annoyance as Bruce touched his palm to his brow. He shamefully shook his head, playing the script the best he knew how.

"I assumed an employee of mine to be competent enough to see all the flaws in such an assumption. How could someone of my lifestyle possibly have time to save a city, let alone a planet? I barely have enough time to come home each night to make sure my ward is tucked in bed with his heart still beating! I have a company to manage, business meetings to attend and negotiate at, final ideas and decisions to veto or approve, scholarships to assign-," he rambled on, hoping the power in his words would convince the dark-skinned man of his 'innocence'.

Michael seemed caught off-guard if anything, but his competence broke through seconds later. Only the best could work for Wayne Tech, which had both good and bad advantages, this being one of the worse ones.

"Nice try, Mr. Wayne… but the company you manage has reported many missing products, all of which you've dismissed and paid for without reporting the police. Then, days later, we see the Dynamic Duo using modified versions of said products in battle. No way that can be any form of coincidence," he pointed out, snidely smiling.

Bruce hadn't expected such a debate when this situation had first crossed his mind. He still had his boxing gloves secured tight around his fists, though, and he had full intention of winning the referee's hand on his wrist.

"Normally, I'd disagree," he found himself saying, "but let's face it. Security isn't greatest by the labs and prototypes could be easily smuggled out and sold. The only reason I haven't reported it is because it doesn't affect anything. I obviously have the money to be able to afford some simply theft. The police are just a hassle. I have you and your boys for these kinds of problems, Williams. Get on it so there isn't a criminal with our technology in his hands! I want the Wayne name clean!"

The snide smile was long gone. Instead, anger took its place, practical steam billowing from the scarlet face with a higher frequencied shriek.

"I've heard enough. I'll ask nicely once before I _escort _you out. Now, Mr. Wayne, would you _please _leave?" Michael's tone was gruff and commanding now, not even the faintest dab of nice to the tip.

Brue felt his stomach drop to his feet, finally coming to realize that the ground beneath his feet was really just a pile of broken sticks and leaves covering his pit trap. He was hurtling towards the spikes now, his hands painstakingly slow as they reached for the walls. Just before his fingers missed an outstretched branch, a sharp beep acted like an arm and pulled him from his descent. A phone call. He held up a finger, his index mind you, to tell Michael he'd be but a second as he took the call.

The second he heard the voice, he rushed out of the building to his civilian car. The pain in his ward's voice and the link he had contacted him through suggested something had happened with the younger ebony's persona, quickly revealed as the trembling words explained the horror that had drifted from Wayne Tech to Gotham Academy. His sidekick had been discovered. Who else had been revealed? They'd have to find out…

"Robin…" he was snapped back from his planning of how to find out the full details of this occurrence, only to find that Dick was pulling a Flash, his mouth seemingly unhinged as he went on and on.

He found himself surprised at how his own voice sounded in the faint echo, the sadness on his tone easily silencing the caller. Sure, he had intended for a silence, but he didn't like the circumstance of this one.

"I know. It seems my identity has been… revealed… I've been locked out of Wayne Tech-," he didn't think hard as he spoke, just wanting to take the edge from the quiet, freezing at the spit-free spit take, "Can you meet me at the Cave in five?"

It only occurred to him as he hit the highway with his speeds that Dick had been at school, meaning he had no vehicle and therefore no means of getting home. His mind was a little disconnected from his conversation earlier. It was so disconnected, when he finally became reaware of things, he found himself in the Batmobile in full costume, barreling down the road with Dick's voice gone from his ears.

A GPS placed into his dashboard was leading him to a blinking R, Dick's identification tag in his systems, meaning he was going to save his ward. After a bit of thinking, he came to recall that there wasn't an enemy to face, but rather a reflection that needed to be dealt with. The teen had already been through so much; it was time he was pointed from the mirror to the window so he could see far past the pain.

* * *

**Sorry this is late, and incomplete. Batman and Robin interaction is coming up. And then we'll see Wally. Hold onto your plushies, boys and girls, and just rewatch this week's episode. I have to admit, even though I hate the main couple, I found myself to be in tears and squealing at the end. If you haven't seen it, all I can say is you need to. I've been working on this for a while; I'm just really, really lazy. Review?**

**-F.J. **


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't know what it was that brought tears to my eyes, but the second I saw Bailey standing there, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her until I could only feel her and nothing of the real world. She hugged me back hard enough to stop my breathing and I heard her breath catch and grow ragged before she just barely whispered, "I missed you." I missed her so much…. It felt so nice to finally hug her again… see her again… **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Artemis' words ran rapid through Wally's mind, causing his fingers to antsily dance along his jean leg as he tried to think of a way to get out of class to come to his friend's aid. His red Converse were a blur as they drummed quietly against the tiled floor, eyes darting anxiously to every corner of the room for a simple excuse. As his eyes fell on the bathroom pass, a scene played out behind his eyelids.

* * *

"_Can I go to the bathroom?" he imagined himself raising his arm lazily._

_The teacher's eyes narrowed at him, her head shaking in a way that loosened her bun more than it needed to be. Her arms folded over the front of her pantsuit, her glare becoming disapproving in a blink. _

"_We're in the middle of a lesson, West. Is it an emergency?" she impatiently asked, the dry erase marker earning a cap. _

_The tan head bobbed eagerly, dramatically crossing his ankles. _

"_I have to go _really_ bad!" he heard himself whine. _

_He watched his teacher push her glasses up with her index and middle finger, the annoying way she always insisted on using. Her gray eyes lazily rolled, starting to turn back to the white board to resume the example on it for the rest of the class who had their Algebra notebooks cracked open to copy down what she wrote. _

"_You should've gone before class," she snidely remarked, uncapping the green again and finishing the 29 she had abandoned. _

_He imagined himself making a strained face, looking about the room before switching to his last resort. _

"_I didn't want to say it, but I just started and I love these jeans. Can I please go?" he had to struggle not to smile, running a hand up his forehead through his bangs. _

_He earned a few snickers, but the teacher's back stayed turned. _

"_I'm glad to hear the operation was a success, Miss West, but you'll just have to wait until the notes are finished. A little blood will come out easily once you get home," came the reply, earning more laughs and turning the skin beneath his freckles a dark scarlet._

* * *

'_Well damn, that won't work_,' Wally lazily cupped his face in his hands, looking from his notebook to the board again.

The brunette up front continued on and on with the lesson, never seeming to want to end. She didn't understand the importance of how badly he needed to leave to save his best friend. No teacher ever did, causing his eyes to drift just enough for him to spot the stapler at the front of the room. A sparkle glinted in his eyes, a smirk creeping over his lips as he quietly edged up from his seat with a spare pencil in hand, making his way for the pencil sharpener.

He earned a cautious glare, but the dry erase marker continued its path on the board once the crank of the sharpener cut the air. He waited until everyone was looking down at their notes before moving his hand in a blur that would keep the handle spinning so no one would look his way. Then he creeped over to the teacher's desk, eying his hand and deciding his ring finger wasn't as necessary as the others. He quickly set his hand between the stapler's sides and forced his palm against the top, digging a staple into the middle digit of his ring finger with a gasp of pain.

"Agh! Miss Johnson! Can I go to the nurse?" he urgently asked, holding his hand up to show the blood that was slowly crawling down and staining his skin, outlining every little line.

She turned around, ready to silence him, gasping at the sight with a quick nod. She darted over, eyes wide with sympathy before she handed him the nurse pass and pushed him for the door.

"Hurry," she urged, ignoring the wide-eyed stares that watched on fearfully.

Wally had to swallow a grin, pretending to be terrified as he ran for the door and shut it fast, going down the hall to where the nurse's office was. He ran right past it though for the front door, dropping the pass on the mat before exiting the school. He paused against the concrete wall to vibrate his fingers swiftly, easily dislodging the staple from his finger with a small smirk. He wiped the blood off on his jeans and quickly became a blur on the sidewalk.

He touched a hand to his com. link with a small smile, "Rob, what's your location? Artemis told me a little of what happened and I'm on my way to… well… do my thing."

He ran in silence for the longest time, the wind viciously whipping at his cheeks and giving an odd blurred noise to his ears that he had long ago begun to love. He heard a familiar little click and his heart jumped for joy, thinking he'd hear the ebony's voice cut the line.

"Get back to school, Kid Flash. Robin is my responsibility, and he doesn't need your 'thing'. If you honor your life, I suggest you turn on heel and head back," Batman's gravelly voice harshly echoed back, causing a surprised squeak from the ginger's lips.

"B-but… B-Batman! H-he… the news this morning…" he began to argue.

At the mention of the news, he couldn't help but smirk as he remembered seeing his own face on there from nearly a year ago when his hair had been long and shaggy.

'_Wallace Allen,' _he remembered the name they gave him, rolling his eyes with a bit of relief that he hadn't been rightfully identified or recognized yet.

The happiness was cut short when he felt a shiver run down his spine as he could feel the Bat Glare sending like a reply.

"Batman…" Robin's voice came on softly, "I like his 'thing'… it always makes me feel better… can I please talk to him?"

Wally kept running, his Converse continuing to slap at the asphalt below as he flew through the busy streets, listening intently to the silent conversation the hero and ex-sidekick seemed to be having. It went on for a while until the ebony's voice came up.

"Alright, this isn't working, Batman. I can't see your expression. KF's my best bro…" he tried aiding the argument, his tone broken with an edge.

The ginger felt a happy tint run along his cheek bones, smiling shyly as he recognized the crossing of state lines.

"Then you can see your 'best bro' up at Mount Justice. Kid Flash, head that way and round up the others. We need to find out what's happening," Batman ordered.

The ginger gave no further word, taking a sharp turn to head to the nearest ZETA.

"See you later," the youngest on the line muttered softly, presumably to the redhead, earning another wide smile at it.

"Later, dude," Wally grinned, turning off his com. link and speeding up with gleaming eyes.

* * *

When Dick heard footsteps head for his alley, he weakly climbed off of the trashcan that had served as his chair for a half hour of butt cramps too long. He curled his hands into tight fists, hesitating until he recognized the dark shadow running to meet him. A shy grin took over his face, his cheeks marred from the heartbreak, darting fast to greet the costumed man. He paused in front of the spandex-skinned hero though, his arms halfway lifted, the shyness quickly growing strong as he hopefully gazed up at the cowl.

The regular frown was hesitant, but it only took another glance at how vulnerable his ward looked for Batman to open his arms as well, allowing the shorter ebony to lunge forward and wrap his strong arms around the Dark Knight's chest. He hid his eyes on the Bat Symbol, his breath growing shaky again, even after the covered arms wrapped around his back to hold him close.

"Are you alright?" Batman was the first, for once, to break the silence that had settled over them, looking down at the black head of hair that was still slicked back evenly.

Dick's head went from the left to the right, slightly tickling the elder's stomach as he did so, mumbling under his breath roughly. The muffled speech continued until the ebony came to realize that there was a chance his guardian couldn't understand anything he said. He weakly pulled back from the hug, sitting along the wall instead and pulling his knees up to his chest, hugging them to secure them.

Pulling his cowl down to the nape of his neck, Bruce crossed the alley to sit beside him, still watching him with cautious eyes. Blue eyes raised to meet his gaze before the ex-sidekick leaned against his mentor's shoulder, closing his eyes in the softest manner he knew.

"I'm… they… they all…" he struggled to formulate words worth sharing, "Is it… my… fault?"

Bruce's expression grew wounded, his lips parting in surprise before he threw his arm around his ward's shoulders, shocking them both with the affectionate action.

"It is _not _your fault. If they identified Artemis as well, there isn't even the remotest way that you are to blame. You have no relation to her as Dick Grayson… right?" he had to hesitate, cocking his head in suspicion towards the teen resting against his chest.

Dick tensed, his eyes widening with a look that quickly accused the older man of needing a straitjacket to bind his limbs to keep from hurting himself or anyone else. That was enough to ease a sigh of relief from the man in the Batman costume, the arm around his shoulders holding him closer protectively.

"No one knows what's going on exactly, but it's going to be okay… We'll always have our masks… and… each other…" Bruce struggled on the words, not quite the family man type.

Dick's eyes widened again in surprise, a grin of disbelief passing over his lips before he lay his head back down with a gentle breath of a laugh, swelling the elder's heart like the Grinch's had on that fateful Christmas morning.

"What are we if they know who we are?" his ward mumbled quietly under his breath. "The baddies could learn of our pasts and torture us with the information they know… bring us to places that we find too uncomfortable to fight in… destroy all that we love…"

Bruce curled his fingers around Dick's arm, tapping it to earn his attention.

"Don't worry about anything, Dick. They can't use anything against us if we put nothing to our names. There's nothing we need more than Alfred, and we'll get him to Mount Justice or the Watch Tower as soon as we can," he assured the ebony, his eyes warm and promising.

The warmth didn't seem to pass off though, the discomfort holding its play stubbornly over his features where it seemed to want to stay.

"B-but… but I…" Dick melted, finding himself wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, instantly bringing worry back to Bruce's long list of emotions to contort his expression.

He stood to his feet, pulling his ward up with him as well as his cowl, heading around the corner with Dick still under his arm towards the Batmobile.

"I don't want any but unless it's yours getting into the passenger's seat. We have to go find out who I have to take care of for making you cry."

* * *

**I am so, so, so sorry. I can't describe how sorry I am with words, actions or images. Nothing can describe it, unless I say: "Writer's Stifling". If you don't know what I'm talking about, you obviously don't watch NCIS and I'm disappointed in you, as you should be with me for taking so long to update. I wish it was better, but this is the best I can offer… Review?**

**-F.J. III**


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